


Good People

by Alsike



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Sex, Alien/Human Relationships, Canon Rewrite, Case Fic, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: Supergirl is missing and National City is turning against aliens. Lena Luthor knows that her mother is involved, but why and how much? The only lead she has is Roulette, back in business after being released from jail.But Roulette is the last person she wants to see. Boarding school love affairs end poorly.Maggie Sawyer, caught in the death throes of her relationship, and trying to figure out how to be useful to Alex who is spiraling without her sister, also pinpoints Roulette as the best route to Cadmus. When Lena's plans go awry, Maggie is caught in the middle. But having each other's backs might turn out for the best for both of them, and for Kara too.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> What if Mon-El wasn't in season 2?
> 
> Here is Episode 6 of this imaginary season.
> 
> This is also a complete excuse to write Lena and Roulette's horrible angsty backstory, and also work on a Maggie Sawyer POV. Although it says Maggie/Lena, it is mostly friendshippy, with some drugged makeouts. In this season, Supercorp and Sanvers are both going to happen, but, since it's me, everything is as angsty as all get out. (I am still a fanfic writer. No one dies.)

_Previously on Supergirl_

When Cat Grant leaves National City, she thinks she's leaving it in good hands. James and Kara can handle any trouble that comes up. They're not just competent employees, they're heroes. But no one expects Cadmus. Cadmus, the home grown paramilitary organization, has been fear-mongering about aliens as they develop uses of alien tech to pursue their own undeclared ends has made its presence known in National City.

Alex is still reeling from the knowledge that not all aliens on earth are either Kryptonian or Fort Rozz escapees, and the DEO is in a precarious position--meant to control the alien threat, but headed by a known alien. Their secrets must remain secrets. And though she's tempted by the offer of friendship and the hints at more from Detective Sawyer, she knows letting her get too close could compromise their entire organization. She still asked her out after the mess with Roulette, but . . . Maggie has a girlfriend. So that didn't go well. She's also worried that Kara is living too dangerously. Reporting on people like Lena Luthor can only lead to trouble. But worse than that, reporting has given Kara insight into the third estate of National City. There's so much that needs to be done, so many people who need to be helped, and Kara can't do it all. She needs Alex's support, but things haven't been the same, really, since Alex had gone to space to save her. It was hard when Alex looked at her like she didn't trust her not to disappear.

So when the black van came out of nowhere and knocked her down just as she was leaving helping Mr. Rodriguez set up his gazebo, and the men with kryptonite and black masks dragged her into the back, Kara just prayed that she wouldn't just be gone, and that she'd have a chance to hug Alex one more time.

 

_The pod opens, inside is . . . Kara. Kara stares down at herself. "It's me?"_

_\--_

_Maggie stares into a mirror in her apartment, holding a hairbrush. Surprise is written across her face. "Shit. I really met the spooks. And they're working_ with _Supergirl?"_

_\--_

_"Um, Miss Luthor?" Kara ducks her head and fiddles with her glasses._

_"Call me Lena, please."_

_"I need a favor."_

_\--_

_Alex's hand closes on Maggie's. She can't look away, grateful for the mask hiding her expression._

_\--_

_Roulette raises her arms over her head. "Let the games begin!"_

_Supergirl crashes through the floor._

_\--_

_Cadmus flickers its messages over all the public broadcasting screens. ALIEN INVASION. Supergirl with green skin._

_\--_

_A van zooms onto screen, and Kara dodges, but trips on the curb. Men with glowing green weapons pour out._

_Then, two black heels fill the screen, clicking down onto the sidewalk. "Come quietly, Miss Danvers, and we won't hurt your friends."_


	2. Scene 1: INT Lena Luthor's office

_Darling Lena,_

_So sorry to have missed you at my last few soirees. Dying to catch up sometime, now that we’re both west coasters. Saw your mother the other day—still hate her. If you need to take the edge off, here’s where to find me._

_Next party: Tuesday, at Varnhill Manor, bring cash_

_Private party: Friday, backroom of Martok’s, ask for David, bring condoms_ _, also cash_

_Lovies,_

_Veronica_

And in a handwritten scrawl below _I miss your white throat and I miss the turtlenecks you wore to hide the violence my teeth and nails left on it. You’re a little bitch but I would tie you up and fuck it out of you eventually. Come and see._

Lena crunched the note up in her fist and buckled over her desk. _Goddammit_.

It had been years, _years,_ since she’d seen Veronica and still with a few words it was like a claw, dragging her in right by the gut. She could see the delicate play of manipulation in her words. She had always been artful, a performer, she’d been the good girl, the rebel, the coquette, the seductress, each turn a surprise, and she’d played Lena so many times.

Those flashes of intimacy— _your mother, still hate her_ — _I miss you—_ they were as fake as the rest of her. Lena had to believe that. Not believing it had only led to where she’d been before.

_Stumbling half naked down the road, coming down hard off a high, the strangest high, aching from rough sex and cringing with disgust at the hazy memories of strangers, human strangers and aliens too, their hands, other members on her, touching her, and Veronica laughing, coaxing, holding her between her knees, and guiding her to take whatever was on offer, tucking bills into her bra as Lena blindly, wantonly, did whatever she asked._

It had been some alien drug. Lena knew she’d said yes to taking it. She would have said yes to anything, until that night. When the high had worn off, she’d run, and Veronica hadn’t come after her.

Veronica might hate her mother, but in that way, they were exactly the same.

_#_

The raised voices fromVeronica’s yelling match with her mother rose up from the courtyard and came in through Lena's open window. Silently, Lena stepped out onto the balcony to watch. It was rude, she knew, but the fire intrigued her, the way that Veronica’s mother responded with just as much rage and fury as her daughter. Lillian never did more than arch an eyebrow or sigh if Lena got upset. She wished they could scream.

Late that night her window let in the scent of cigarette smoke and Lena climbed onto the balcony railing and swung up over the parapet to the roof, catching the shape of Veronica on a crenel across the way. She stood, an inch away from plummeting four stories, and smoked her cigarette. She must have heard the scuff of Lena’s foot because she turned her head, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Little Luthor.”

Lena made a soft noise. She didn’t like being called that. She hated being seen for nothing but a false family name, but even more she hated it when Veronica said it. It was clear that Veronica saw past her name, saw she hated it, and said it anyway.

Veronica jumped down from the parapet and Lena moved closer. Veronica offered her a drag from the cigarette and Lena took it, ignoring the smoke and nicotine for the trace of saliva and lipgloss on the paper tube.

And then Veronica took the cigarette back. She reached out, tracing her fingers across Lena’s cheek. “Marble girl,” she murmured.

Lena swallowed at the touch, at the nickname. It was better than Little Luthor, but it meant— emotionless, untouchable, or at least unmarked. But Veronica would try. Her other hand was lifting up the sleepshirt Lena wore, hips knocking her back into the edge of the parapet. A hand coming up to cover her mouth, pinch shut her nose, and Veronica put out the cigarette against her skin.

It seared into her flesh right under where her bra would rub, and Lena cried out into Veronica’s hand, silenced and gasping for air that didn’t come, and between her thighs the slickness grew thick and wet. Lena’s eyes stung.

Getting off on pain and disinterest. What kind of monster was she?

“I’m not in the mood.”

Veronica dropped her, dropped the cigarette and ground it into the shingles. Lena slumped down the parapet, the stone scratching up her back, the shingles cold through her pajama bottoms. Veronica strode away, shinning down a gutter to her own room’s balcony, and Lena, in the chill night air, slid her fingers into herself and shakily got herself off as the burn throbbed and stung on her side.

_#_

_Camelhair_.

“Hello, Lena.”

Every time Lena thought she wasn’t a child anymore, that she had broken ties and struck out on her own, her family swept back in.

“Hello, Mother.”

Lillian Luthor stood over her, watching her, expressionless, emotionless. “I’m disappointed,” she said.

Lena stared back, not caring. The only person her mother had ever been truly disappointed in was Lex. You had to care to be disappointed, and Lena’s mother had never cared about her. She was annoyed, perhaps, irritated, but not disappointed.

"Rejecting our name?"

"I've never been a very good Luthor," Lena said, her voice coming out low, more gravelly than she'd intended. "But perhaps that's a benefit around now."

“You have poor taste in friends,” Lilian snapped. Then she smiled tightly. “But, you always have. I ran into that little girl you ruined the other day. She seems to have sorted herself out.”

Lena tensed. "Veronica? I thought she'd been arrested."

Lillian waved a hand vaguely. "Things like that clear themselves up. Bottom feeders like her still have friends in high places. But don't worry, I'll put her out of business soon enough."

Put Roulette out of business? Her mother didn’t care enough about Veronica for it to be a vendetta, which meant it was a side effect. Lena frowned. Her mother wasn't in National City for a vacation. Then why? A side effect of what?

Her mother leaned over her desk. “Be careful of who calls you a friend, Lena. I might believe them. And if it is true, I’m sorry.” Lillian smiled, hard and cold with teeth. “There is nothing you can do to save her.”

#


	3. Scene 2: INT Maggie Sawyer's Apartment

Maggie Sawyer did not shake on the outside. She didn’t shudder in her boots or give into fear. She went into danger, hard head first.

But sometimes, even though she lived thousands of miles away, Cass Cain would come in through her window and sit on her bed. She wouldn’t say anything. She never did. So Maggie wouldn’t either. And she would get out a bottle of whiskey, or if it felt like a messy night, Steph’s favorite wine coolers. And they’d drink.

Cass never puked. But Maggie did. Cass held her hair back, just like Steph had taught her. And then she left, and Maggie would spend the next few nights thinking of blonde hair and a daring grin, and a girl who she should have taken better care of.

 _She was just a kid_.

Cass had come by last night, on the anniversary of Steph’s death, when Maggie was already shaken up by the prisoners taken from Lena Luthor’s party just dying right in front of her. Maggie had puked a lot, and when her girlfriend showed up in the morning, freaking out because Maggie had ignored her calls—she’d been supposed to go to a condolence party for her sister whose husband had died six months ago—she’d said things she regretted. It was due to the headache mostly, but also she hated Serena's family, and hated condolence parties worst of all. She felt shitty for the woman, but really, a party? It was the worst idea. The woman sat around feeling miserable and everyone else got drunk.

Of course, that wasn’t what she’d said. With her headache it had been easier to say, ‘I don’t fucking care about your sister! Yeah it sucks, but three people died yesterday, right in front of me! And my friend— my friend back from Gotham died four years ago yesterday. She was _eight_ _een_. I am too tired to care about your sister right now, okay? Just leave me the fuck alone!’

Sometimes Maggie was a bad person. She dealt. Serena slapped her and screamed that she cared more about her job than real people and that she was emotionally dead inside. And then she stepped in close and caught Maggie by the front of the shirt and gave her that look.

If there was anything that Maggie wasn't in the mood for, it was sex. Her head throbbed and her mouth tasted like stale wine coolers. But if she said no, Serena would keep screaming at her. She did not have the fortitude for that.

She put her hands on Serena's hips and walked her roughly back to the bed and pushed her down. She caught her wrists when she tried to go for Maggie's shirt or jeans and knocked them away. She held her down, settling over her hips, and Serena looked at her, flushed and breathless and fiery. And Maggie grinned and leaned down to bite at her lips. Serena was a horrible bitch, but she was so fuckable. And she yelled about Maggie's work issues, but she didn't actually care. Even if she didn't understand she wouldn't actually try to fix Maggie, not like that girl she'd dated in Gotham.

"I got to go to work."

Serena, sated and a little bruised, lifted herself up on one elbow. "You should have come last night."

Maggie shut her eyes, her hand on the door. "I had a thing. Tell your sister I was at a wake."

"I said you were working. It's pretty much a good bet." Serena shook her head. "You know, when we got into this, you were so serious about it being a real relationship. You wanted serious. But you're kind of shit at serious. Don't get me wrong, you're a good date and a better fuck, but I wanted more from you."

"What _more_?" Maggie's grip tightened around the doorpost. "Fuck you."

"I wanted a girlfriend. The person who shows up with you when you have to go someplace shitty. Maybe I wanted to live with someone, and see how that went. Maybe I wanted to talk about the future and feel like this was going somewhere."

"It _is_."

"Oh, Mags."

"Just because I can't be on your fucking hip at all times-- I make time for you. I do what I'm supposed to do."

"Yeah, but you don't care."

"Well maybe that's about you! Maybe I just don't care about you!"

Serena's expression flattened out. "Yeah, that's kind of what I was worrying about."

Maggie's chest went cold. "Hey," she moved back to the bed. I didn't-- I didn't mean it."

Serena reached up and cupped her chin, her brows lowered, eyes narrow. "I hope you didn't. But I don't even know if I trust anything you say anymore."

#

It had been a shitty week all around. And developing an irritating straight-girl crush had just been icing. _Friends_ , Maggie told herself. _Friends._ She wasn't that much of an incompetent person that she couldn't handle that. But Alex had suddenly, unexpectedly, turned from cool and detached into really fucking cute.

She wasn't going to do anything about it. She might be the shittiest girlfriend of the year, but she wasn't _that_ kind of shitty. She felt a little bad for blowing Alex off on her invitation to drinks. She seemed like she was the same kind of lonely and desperate for friends that Maggie was. Maggie made friends, but didn't keep them. Part of that was still being new in town, but even in Gotham, before she'd hooked up with the bat-peeps, friends had been work acquaintances that she drank with, or people she'd exchanged a couple words with at her gym. If either of them figured out how to do 'friends' it would be nice to hang with Alex more.

But the part of her shitty week that she thought she could do something about was Roulette getting off.

Follow the money. That was always the game. So she spent the rest of the day on the computer, and when Serena texted saying that she was going out with her girls and not to wait up, Maggie spent most of the night there too, doing the things Babs had taught her to break past these banks and their systems of secrecy.

She didn't come out with a list of names. She came out with one. Carey David Mitchell Senior. The person didn't exist. No Junior by the name either. She tried initials. C. David Mitchell. Carey D. Mitchell. C. D. Mitchell Sr..

 _Motherfucking assholes._ They were just fucking with her, weren't they? CDMS. _Cadmus_.

But why would Cadmus want to bail out Veronica Sinclair? They were working at cross purposes. Roulette made her money off of aliens, and Cadmus wanted them gone. Gone, or at least hated. But was it really different people who believed these two ideas?

Maggie had been a lesbian long enough to know what hypocrisy tasted like. Roulette’s fans would bet their cash on alien entertainment and then happily support an organization that promised to wipe out the performers. They’d done it before. Oh, I love theater, but fuck the gays.

Roulette herself? Maggie didn't really know what was going on in her head. Danvers had brought by a deposition from one of the performers--anonymous--that explained how the whole thing worked. Veronica Sinclair might be a fucking evil bitch, but she paid well, and if someone died, the money still got to their kin. She'd just needed to get better at dumping the bodies. Roulette was nothing compared to Cadmus, and knowing they had their fingers in her release--it felt fishy.

But it was the kind of fishy that tasted like a lead. Next step, track down where Roulette's little fight club was set to appear next. Call Alex. Do something about all this bullshit.

Then, of course, Supergirl disappeared and all her plans went to hell.

#


	4. Act II Scene 1: INT Lena Luthor's office

“Where is she! Where is she!” Agent Danvers burst into her office and Lena was up against the wall, a hand around her throat, choking her.

God, she hadn’t had a hand around her throat in years. Now a note from Roulette, a visit from her mother, and getting choked by a federal agent all in one week. How lucky could she be?

“Where is who, Agent Danvers?” Lena ground out past her grip.

The grip tightened, then released. “Supergirl.” Agent Danvers stepped back. “Do you know where Supergirl is?”

Lena went cold. _There is nothing you can do to save_ _her_ _._ “I don’t. But thank you for asking so politely.”

The anguish on Agent Danvers’ face was incomprehensible to Lena. How could she feel so much for an alien? How could she feel so much for anyone?

“Cadmus has made threats,” Lena said finally. “Not just against Supergirl, but if I understand correctly, against all aliens. I suspect they are making good on one of them in particular.”

“How do you know this?”

“Those at the top straddle many worlds, Agent Danvers. Your sister knows that. I have no sympathies with homegrown terrorism or human supremacy through violence. Still, people in my position hear things. But I fear that is the limit of my practical information.” At least at the moment. Her mother's words combed through her mine like the spines on a cactus. What was she missing? What did she need to put together to make any of this comprehensible? She could tell Agent Danvers what she suspected, but the only thing that was likely to get her is a quick trip into custody. She could do more on her own.

Agent Danvers threaded her fingers through her hair, making it stick up in awkward spikes. “I just—”

“I understand, Agent Danvers. If someone so important was in my care . . .” What? Lena didn’t know. She’d never had such a charge. The only charge she had was L-Corp, and it was a foul and corrupted thing. She would never dig all of the darkness from its corners, no matter how hard she tried. It was nothing like Supergirl at all. Lena fell silent and Agent Danvers breathed out, looking not like an agent at all, but just like a young woman, clutching together pieces of her broken heart, hoping that it would heal before she had to let go.

“Thanks anyway. Sorry for the choking.”

Lena waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I enjoyed it.”

Agent Danvers’ eyes went wide and she tripped on nothing. Lena smiled tightly. “Please inform me if you locate Supergirl.”

“Sure.”

Kara Danvers wasn’t picking up her phone. That was one point towards her current hypothesis. Added to the other Danvers’ clear desperation, no, it was silly even to wonder. Kara Danvers was Supergirl. Not a surprise, but Lena liked to be sure of things. She only wished she could have become sure of things in a different way.

In particular, she wished that her party hadn't been an excuse to trap a menace and that perhaps she could have spent more time with either of them.

The headline at CatCo read SUPERGIRL STILL MISSING. In smaller caps, MYSTERIOUS ATTACKS ON ALIEN REFUGE SITES.

Lena ordered a bottle of scotch and drank it all.

#

Kara was Supergirl. Darling, awkward, cub reporter Kara Danvers was Supergirl. There had been signs. No one could be that sweet and charming and unmannered without a dark secret. But she'd thought . . . she'd _hoped_.

"Lena, you're drunk," Lena grumbled to herself and stumbled down the hallway to her bed. "Drunk on a Thursday night." It was past midnight though. Friday mornings, they were appropriate for drinking, weren't they?

Ugh, she'd wanted the Danvers girl. She'd wanted her in all the ways Lena had grown into after high school. Kara was pretty and awkward and would need handling. But Lena knew how to handle people, god knew she'd been handled enough.

She wanted to place her hands on her face, press her cheekbones, rub her thumbs into her lips, smearing them across her perfect teeth, and bite them until they were as red as Lena's favorite lipstick. She wanted the surprise, the eyes widening behind those thick glasses, the duck of her head, embarrassed, and the shy smile that resurfaced. She'd wanted it in a way that fucking couldn't satisfy, that hands and vibrators and satisfaction had no connection to.

Supergirl was nothing like that. She was like a statue. Lena couldn't leave a mark on her body, couldn't offer her anything she didn't already have. And yet . . . she didn't want her any less. It had all been part of wanting Kara too.

Lena had reached out to shake hands and Kara had nearly crushed hers. Denying it the whole time, Lena had let her eyes linger on sturdy shoulders and sculpted arms, and in her head she’d stripped away the cardigans and plaid and seen . . . seen someone quite like the alien she’d stared at pictures of for hours.

Her history with aliens was mixed. They’d touched her. They’d taken her with some very poorly defined consent implications. And she hated them for it, though not as much as she hated Veronica. She hated Superman for what he’d done to Lex. But she remembered the photos Lord had sent of the RedK incident. She looked at Kara and thought of those pictures, of that sleek black suit, the tousled hair, the feeling of her tight grip--not clasping her hand, but around her wrists, the wall of her anger as her body slammed into her, driving her back against her desk, the door, the bulletproof glass of her window. Hovering above her, so close to feel her hair, her breath, her anger. So much rage— _I know what you are. I know what you want.—_ She wouldn’t fuck her. Not even if Lena begged. And she would beg, and see the knowledge of all the power that she had change Kara’s face. No, Lena was no threat to her, not if she could destroy her with a word or a touch. She would know Lena's sins, her darkness, all of the things she's done, or planned, or considered. And she would punish her.

Lena had had enough of pain at the hands of those who simply wanted to cause damage and please themselves. But Supergirl--if it was Supergirl who hurt her, she would know she deserved it. Punishment. The cleansing fire.

There weren't any good people in the world. No one was truly selfless, truly heroic. She wanted Supergirl to be different. She'd wanted Kara to be different. And maybe--  _maybe_ she could believe that she was.

But Supergirl was missing. Did Cadmus have her? Did her mother have ties to Cadmus? If not, then who had Supergirl?

Drunk, her mind was not as sharp as it could have been, but there was one thing she knew--there was no reason for her mother to have seen Roulette unless Roulette had something she wanted. And what else was that fight club that Roulette ran but a perfect gathering place for people who didn't see aliens as deserving of the same status as humans.

And Roulette was having a private party tonight.

#


	5. Act 2 Scene 2: EXT an alley outside the Alien Bar

Maggie stepped into the alley, following the alien who'd said he had info. She'd slapped a handful of Franklins into one of his three hands, but that was no guarantee of anything. She kept her hand on her piece, her consciousness wary. She did not need to be jumped today. She'd said she worked better without a partner, but at time like these she really wanted someone watching her back.

She wanted Alex watching her back.

But Alex was MIA. She could guess where she was -- frantically searching every lead for Supergirl. But she wasn't answering her texts, and Maggie kind of figured she'd be a liability if she did. She'd seen the looks the aliens at the bar had given her and M'gann had shaken her head, and mentioned that 'her friend' had been in and that was why they needed a new pool table.

But Alex wasn't the only one who was twitchy. Nothing had been the same since Supergirl disappeared. The whole vibe in the city was wrong. Maggie had thought National City was better than this, better than Gotham and its inescapable corruption, it was bright and shiny and had Supergirl, not the frigging ManBat who drew more crazy than he put down.

She'd expected her tiny, underfunded Science Cops organizationto get shafted when there were assholes in high places, but even the DEO hadn't been able to lock down Roulette. If it wasn't an extraterrestrial you could put in a secret prison, the DEO were mostly useless. And National City had Cadmus.

She felt their tendrils behind how the whole city had changed with Supergirl's disappearance. There were already think pieces about how Supergirl was the face of the alien conspiracy and now that she was gone they’d see what the aliens were really like. They didn’t want to assimilate, they wanted to invade! They had powers, they were disgusting, rumors of torture and sex clubs and whatever the fuck they could say that would turn the public against the immigrants.

CatCo was the only voice that was relentlessly pro-Supegirl, but in the back pages editorials and other pieces ‘maintained balance.’ Not every alien was Supergirl.

Maggie knew _that_. Some of the worst fuckers she’d met were aliens. But so were some of the best. That was the real issue. It wasn’t simple. But news and spin and public opinion were terrible at conveying nuance. The same lack of nuance got itself into the cops. It was hard to talk to her own guys now.

God, she missed Alex.

"What do you have to tell me?"

"I know you like to fuck aliens," the sleazy dude let his third hand crawl down Maggie's ass. Maggie grit her teeth but didn't stab him. "But I think this party is above your pay grade."

"What party?"

"The _best_ one."

"Tell me where it is."

"So you can bust in and arrest everyone? Not likely."

Maggie pinched her mouth. He wouldn't be talking to her if he wasn't going to give her the info, but he wanted her to work for it. "I don't want to bust it. I just want to chat."

" _Chat?"_

Maggie tipped her head to the side and gave him her coldest grin. "You know about my _proclivities_. Why do you think I'm not riding along with someone if I was working a real case? I know it's above my pay grade, but that's their problem, not yours. And, anyways, for special things, I save up."

The sleaze giggled. "Do I get a full report?"

Maggie shrugged. "If I have any fun."

"Oh, you will. I got the good stuff for this one."

"Then, if they let me in."

Sleazy alien tipped his head to the side and smiled. "Good luck."

#


	6. Scene 3: INT The private rooms above Martok's

The last person in the world Lena wanted to see--besides Lex--was Veronica Sinclair. And yet here she was, impeccably dressed, hair up, lips painted her darkest shade. She had never been so prepared, and still she felt like a fourteen year old girl in her ill-fitting school uniform.

She was better than this. She had become better than this. She was not there to be quiet, react, wait for notice, wait for any scrap of attention that she might be given. She was there to demand answers, and find out, at the very least, what sort of trouble her mother was tangled up with this time.

Lena wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting until the moment she stepped inside, her mask matched perfectly to her sleek black dress. She'd expected a sex party. But instead it was a prelude to a silent auction.

Around the edges of the rooms through which waiters carried trays of champagne the aliens were arrayed, 'showing their wares.' And Lena grimaced to see tentacles and ovipositors, enlarged abdomen and prehensile tails. She had been up close and personal with some. And the memory, though unpleasant, stirred warmth in her belly.

Others did not look so quickly away but stared with open horror. One, a petite woman with long sleek black hair and no accompanying man had her fists clenched into a ball so tightly that streaks of pale marked her dark knuckles. Lena expected horror or disgust or arousal, but this looked like rage.

For a moment, Lena stared, trying to make out the expression on the face behind the mask, but then a sway of red crossed her eye.

Roulette.

She was beautiful.

It hit like it always did, a fist to the gut, to see her poise, her smile, her arched eyebrows and sleek, sculpted cheekbones. In her red dress with the snakes that swirled around her legs and arms, it was a different kind of beauty than Lena remembered. Veronica had always had the carriage of casual power, but she'd worn it with whatever clothes--or none--enrobed her. The school uniform, the boys pajamas she stole, the leather jacket with the sleeves rucked up, jeans that clung to the tight curve of her ass and seemed to beg Lena to touch them, all were armor. But she'd grown up, settled into a version of herself--a hardened one, hair up, lips red, winged eyeliner--just like Lena had.

She didn't wear a mask.

Her eyes drifted over the gathered bidders, contemplative, counting. And then they brushed by Lena. She should have looked away. Roulette was supposed to have looked right through her.

She didn't.

Roulette's eyes narrowed as she peered through the gathering. As she saw past the mask the furrow on her brow faded into recognition. And then she grinned, open and welcoming, and Lena was standing on the drive of her school, the letter from her parents explaining that they were taking Lex to the Alps and she should just stay on campus for the break clutched in her hand. The convertible pulling up in front of her, spitting gravel, with Veronica, her hair loose and spilling over her shoulder, cigarette held between her teeth, and that same grin as she reached across the car and unlatched the passenger door.

"Hurry up, Little Luthor. Let's get the fuck out of this shithole."

"Don't call me that."

Lena swung into the seat, throwing her bag into the back. Veronica reached across and caught her chin, drawing her toward her and taking out the cigarette just in time to kiss her, bruising and brief. "Lena."

She'd always melted.

And even now when Veronica fanned out her fingers and curled them in, gesturing for her to come closer, Lena could do nothing but obey.

#

If her thigh holster hadn't been so inaccessible in this dress, Maggie probably would have shot someone by now. Instead she paced the room and wished she could just drink champagne until getting into a brawl wouldn't sound like a bad idea.

"Hey you." The voice calling out was reedy and intent. Maggie turned to face down one of the aliens sitting displayed upon a small platform, offering up her body with its blur of features. "Come here."

"Me?" Maggie pointed to herself.

"Yeah, you." She cocked her head and offered a grin. "Free sample."

Maggie tensed and then spotted the gesture to a door behind the platform. "Okay?"

The alien slipped in ahead of her and when Maggie stepped through she shut the door with a harsh and determined little click. A brush of membrane against her arms and Maggie forced herself not to react.

"Um, I'm not--"

"I know who you are." The voice was flat and angry. "You're the fucking cop who hangs around our bar."

Maggie took a slow breath. "And if I am?"

"You should get the fuck out of here. I know you like a little walk on the wild side, but this isn't for you."

"I'm aware."

"And you and your cop buddies had better not bust it up."

"No?"

"You're such a poser. You think you know what it's like to be an outsider. You think hanging around with aliens is some kind of solidarity. But you don't understand us at all. You are not an alien. You don't know what it's like to not pass for human here, to not be _able_ to pass for human. Not passing as an alien is not the same as not passing as a fag. You can live and work and get your rocks off in private. We don't have those kinds of choices. So we chose what we can."

"You chose to be here?"

"Of course. Whatever else these human scum do, they pay. And if you mess this up-- a lot of us don't have many other options."

"I don't like it."

"Fuck you."

Maggie shook her head. "I don't like that you don't have other choices. But I get it. If the amnesty act ever really gets enforced, maybe you will."

The alien laughed. "Because you've made it so all humans have choices already. You're just a little utopia, aren't you?"

Maggie snorted. "Fine. Optimism isn't your jam. But don't worry. I'm a cop. I have experience with prioritizing. I'm not here after Roulette tonight anyway. I have bigger fish to fry."

"Bigger fish?"

"Cadmus."

"Oh." The alien raised a browridge. "You mean you're doing recreational shark wrestling."

Maggie snorted. People were always on her for biting off more than she could chew. But you could chew anything, just start at the edge and work inwards. "Something like that. I know some of these people have contact with Cadmus, some of them _are_ Cadmus. Do you know anything?"

The alien snorted. "Me? Nothing more than what everyone does."

"What does everyone know?"

"If you want to find the people who hate aliens, find a Luthor."

#


	7. Scene 3 Cont'd

"I didn't think you'd come." Roulette's voice was soft, intimate. Her hand came up, thumb brushing across Lena's cheek.

"I didn't either."

"May I?" Roulette's fingers twitched at the ribbon on her mask. Lena did not protest, and she drew out the bow, letting the domino fall away. "Still marble," she murmured, "but you have grown into your looks."

"So have you. Though I can't say I'm a fan of the snakes."

Roulette grinned. "Everybody's got to have a gimmick. But, _Lena--_ " It sounded like a pet name, ownership and affection all wrapped up in one. "It's been over a decade. Tell me why you decided on this particular night to come and bury the hatchet."

Lena paused, watching her. The warmth was unexpected. But Veronica had always been warm and icy by turns. She'd learned to push during the warm moments, to seek out what she wanted, and wait, heart in her throat, for when the ice struck and Veronica gave her what she deserved. Now was warmth. Time to push. "You mentioned my mother in your note. And my mother mentioned you. I was . . . curious."

"Your mother." Roulette's lip curled. "I hate her."

"I hate her too."

"And she returns the favor, doesn't she?" Roulette's expression tightened. "Yet you are still in each other's lives. You see her. She acknowledges you."

Lena's gut clenched. After Lena had been picked up on the side of the road and brought to the hospital, Veronica's parents had disinherited her, cut all ties. It was Lena's doing. No, this politeness, this half seduction was an act. Veronica had not forgiven her for what she'd done. She was just waiting to twist the knife.

"I made a mistake, all those years ago," Veronica murmured. "I forgot who you were. I thought you were mine, when you have always belonged to the Luthors."

"They don't--"

"It's harder to forget how important you are now that your face is all over the news. Honestly, I can't believe I was so foolish as a child, to forget what I needed to do to keep you."

Her fingertips snaked down Lena's arms and then laced around her wrist, gripping it as tight as a manacle. "What are you really doing here?"

"I told you, my mother--"

"As if I would believe that you are not aware of all your mother's plots and plans. As if I would believe you are not in on her thrust to put me out of business. What truck do you have with Rigon, or whatever new name she's using now?"

"Rigon?" The name sounded familiar, but Lena couldn't place it.

"You hate your mother, her power and her coldness, but you don't have anything else. You could have had me, if you'd been a good girl. But you weren't. Beg, Lena. Beg for me and maybe I'll forgive you."

"I don't beg anymore," Lena said. "I don't need my mother anymore either. I have Luthor Corp. I am the one she has to come to--"

"Oh, you beg," Roulette's lip curled. "You love it."

Lena shook her head. "I'm not here for that."

"No," Roulette leaned back, eyes scanning her from foot to head. "It was never about me, though, was it? Did you ever want me, or just my relationship with my mother? You never got it. You took it from me, and burned it." She took a step towards Lena, eyes narrow, lips drawn beck from her teeth. "You took everything from me. You come here--to judge me?--when this is what I do to survive, because I don't have any of the things I was born to. And you-- I've had to bow to your power for the last ten years, and I am done with it."

Lena fought her grip, but she could not break Roulette's clamp on her hand. And then she felt the sting of a needle.

"What are you doing?"

"What I ought to have done ten years ago. Making certain I won't ever lose to you again."

And Lena felt the flush of the drug rush through her. Her skin broke out into a sweat, her nipples tightened, her saliva grew thick, between her legs she was molten. She was dizzy, her vision blurred.

"Ready for your close up?" Roulette purred, so close her lips brushed against Lena's face, and Lena shuddered, floods coating the insides of her thighs.

Her hand still clamped on Lena's wrists she turned to the bidders. "Welcome to my auction!" she announced. "And as a special treat for those of us with petty vengeance as a fetish, we have a final lot. Lena Luthor. Back in the day, we were schoolmates, and I've seen how much she loves trying new things. So for all you voyeurs out there, ask for anything to be done to her, and everyone who bids above my secret limit gets to watch. I know a lot of you have had dealings with the Luthors. And this Little Luthor has volunteered to be the one on whom you can take out all of the annoyances you have with her family." Roulette grinned. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty annoyed. But I think this will do plenty to make me feel better."

The room buzzed with excitement.

Lena clutched at her arm, grasping for every last shred of her dignity. "You don't want to do this."

"I thought you grew _up_." Veronica cupped Lena's face between both her hands. "You left. And no matter how much you might want to come crawling back into my care, my possession, my protection, I don't want you anymore."

#

"Fuck." There was a Luthor here. But this Luthor did not look to be in control of anything. No mask, her legs shaky under her, looking around as if she didn't understand what was going on. And the ugly grin on Roulette's face, the hard grip on her wrist, it wasn't good.

Maggie ducked back inside the room and pulled out her phone. She switched to anonymous and called 911. "I heard explosions. Martok's is on fire."

It wasn't a bust. No one would be arresting anyone, as much as she wished she could lock up every single person in this place. It still wasn't what she'd promised, but fuck that. She wasn't watching any of this. No one was going to be tortured on her watch.

Not again.

Lena Luthor, in the meantime, had become the occupant of a tabletop, wrists bound behind her back, and leashed to her ankles. Her black dress spilled around her knees. Roulette held her under her jaw, leaning close, tempting her, but not letting Lena close the distance and kiss her. Each time she tried she'd jam the side of her hand into Lena's throat, choking her.

Maggie casually sauntered over to the largest and most dramatic alien. "So, I'm sorry and all, but the fire department is coming. And I'm going to break this party up. If you start moving toward the exits, I think everyone else will follow."

"You're a cop," the alien burbled.

"No arrests. I just want to get that girl out of here."

"The Luthor girl?"

"Bringing her in for questioning."

The alien turned away and then suddenly blew up into a giant spiky ball. "Fire!" he burbled loudly, and then Maggie smelled smoke. Also from him?

The wave went through the room. Roulette straightened, fury on her face, and she grabbed for Lena as the gathering split around her. "Your fault!"

Maggie fought the tide of hurried, panicked bodies. Some had pulled off their masks to see better and Maggie took in as many faces as she could. She reached Roulette as she manhandled a cuffed Lenathrough a back exit.

"Nuh-uh." Maggie had her gun out and faced down the woman. "Get your hands off of her."

Roulette fixed her with an ugly glare. "Take her then," she shoved Lena at Maggie. Lena stumbled and Maggie shifted to catch her, losing the train of her gun. Roulette disappeared, and Lena struggled to get her feet under her, using Maggie as a hitching post. Maggie quickly put the safety on and stuck her gun in a fold of her dress. She caught Lena's waist to stabilize her.

Shit, even with her pupils blown, up close she had really stunning eyes.

"Come on," Maggie muttered. "Lets get out of here before someone figures out it's not actually on fire."

Lena draped herself over her shoulder and groaned. "I feel sick."

Maggie put an arm around her waist and helped her through the doorway into a dim back hall. Steps led down into darkness.

"Did she drug you?" Maggie adjusted to make sure her gun was still accessible.

Lena nodded and then reeled, her balance gone.

Maggie grabbed her again. "Fuck. You need a hospital."

Lena shook her head. "No. Don't want that."

"It wasn't a suggestion."

"I'm _fine_. I--" Lena pulled at her cuffs. Maggie stopped her before she tore her wrists up. The moment her hands closed around skin, Lena bent, hissing in a sharp breath. "I've had it before," she gasped out. "It wears off."

"You . . . had it before."

"Some breakups are really bad."

That was more information than she'd expected. Roulette was her ex? This was not the Lena Luthor from the tv or the press conferences that kept getting attacked. Whatever this drug was, it had really messed her up. "Look. I'm a cop. If you want to press charges--"

The sigh was more like the Lena she was familiar with. "Again? No. I shouldn't have come. Just let me go home, officer."

"Detective."

Lena's lip curled up at the side. "And . . . what do you detect?"

Maggie led her toward the steps and keeping a firm arm around her helped her down them. "That I don't know where the keys to those cuffs are."

Lena tipped her head back and laughed. "You know. I kind of like this drug." She staggered again. It clearly did nothing for her balance. "It makes me horny as all get out, but the blurriness is nice. Everything has been so sharp for so long."

"I know what you mean." Lena's weight hit her in the side, and Maggie gritted her teeth to not overbalance.

"That's why I came here. _Cadmus_."

Maggie went stiff. "What do you know about Cadmus?"

" _Nothing_." Lena scowled. "No one tells me anything."

"You're a Luthor."

"Don't fucking--" Lena lunged forward, broke out of Maggie's grip, and fell. Maggie grabbed for her, but she was too late, and Lena hit the wall with her face, then slid down onto the floor.

Maggie hustled down the three steps to the landing and reached for Lena, who swing around to face her. "You need the hospital."

"I need these cuffs off," Lena growled, a red mark across her cheek and forehead. She lifted her chin, staring at Maggie imperiously. "Take off your mask."

Maggie hadn't realized she was still wearing it. She pulled it down. Lena tucked the side of her lower lip between her teeth. "You'll do."

"I'll do what?"

"I don't let just anyone put me in handcuffs. But I am in them, and I am aching for it. So do what you will. I prefer women who are taller than me, but you have appealingly sturdy arms."

Okay. That was some drug. Maggie shook her head. "Thanks, hon. But how about we get you out of those cuffs instead?"

"Are you nice? I don't do very well with nice." Lena pulled her legs under her to kneel. "I'm not very nice. That's why people hate me."

Maggie helped her up. "I don't know if Roulette did this to you because she hates you. I kind of think she's just a terrible person."

"Mm," Lena offered a tight smile. "I made her that way."

"If this is the _second_ time she's drugged you and tried to pimp you out, I really don't think you're responsible here, even if you did have a shitty break up."

Lena laughed, her mouth brushing against Maggie's loose hair, less arrogant this time, a little charming actually, and Maggie carefully walking her down the next tier of steps. Drugged was bad for balance and cuffed was bad for balance. Drugged and cuffed was no good at all.

"We are going to my car now, and I am going to find some extra cuff keys, or possibly bolt cutters. And then we are going to the hospital."

"No hospital." Lena tried to shake her off.

"If you have a seizure from this--"

"No. If you take me to the hospital, I won't tell you what I know about Cadmus."

Maggie froze and Lena nearly pulled out of her grasp and toppled down the stairs again. "So you do know something about Cadmus."

Lena cast a narrow glare at her ear. "I'm a _Luthor._ What I don't know, I can find out. That's one reason I came here. To find out."

"That makes two of us. What's your special interest?"

"Supergirl is _mine_."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"She's--" Lena clearly had to focus on this, and stumbled on the last step, but Maggie had got the hang of steering by now, and Lena recovered easily. "She's not like them, like people. She's better than people. She didn't judge me."

"She's pretty cute too, right?"

Lena stopped, stared straight ahead for a moment and then struggled to turn around in Maggie's bracing arm. "Have you seen her in glasses?"

This was clearly very important. Maggie grinned. "Can't say I have."

Lena shook her head. "The red blue and gold is garbage. Pink and yellow and earthtones. And black. She also looks good in black."

"Okay, we're verging on creepy stalker territory. Or fashion designer."

"'S not creepy. What's creepy is that she's _gone_."

"Yeah," Maggie said, "that is pretty creepy."

She pushed Lena gently into the passenger seat of the undercover cruiser she'd borrowed and dug in the back for a toolkit. There was one, thankfully, and she cut the handcuffs off of Lena's wrists.

Lena brought her free hands around to the front and looked at them, as if they were unfamiliar. "Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure."

Lena's look at her was sidelong. "What can I do for you?" She reached out and tangled her fingers into Maggie's.

"You don't have to do anything for me."

Lena let out a small amused breath. "That's never been true."

"You could . . . go to the hospital for me?"

Lena snorted and turned her head away. "Lena Luthor, admitted with a strange drug in her system, probably got for the purposes of recreational sex with aliens. No thank you."

"You shouldn't be alone. Just in case."

"Then don't leave me alone."

Maggie squeezed her fingers and made a decision. "All right then. You get to spend the night at my place. And I get to make sure you don't seize and die during the night. And then, in the morning, when you're sober, you can tell me everything you know about Cadmus."

"I accept."

#


	8. Scene 4: INT Maggie Sawyer's Apartment

It had been a shitty evening. But Lena had always been good at pretense. She was certain she wasn't coming off as high at all. And she was in a car that had been vacuumed recently with a girl in a pretty dress, who had a gun, and bolt cutters. She liked pretty girls with guns and bolt cutters.

She managed the stairs up to the proletariat apartment above a Chinese takeaway on her own just fine, now that she had her hands, and cast one look over the scarred formica countertop and heap of boots that trailed away from the closet, before deciding that the space was adequate. The girl-cop-woman-person-human was turning around, the paint-strokes of her brows furrowing to examine her--a guarded concern, and Lena stepped in, bumping her up against the wall, and kissed her.

"Hey," there was some speech in the way the woman kissed back, and her hands came up, tangling in her hair and tugging. Lena liked that, and kissed harder. The woman leaned into it, using her head to draw Lena's jaw open and suck on her lower lip. She bit, and Lena gasped, releasing a little, and in a blur of motion Lena's back was against the wall, pinned there with an arm across her throat.

Lena tipped her head back, biting her already tender lower lip and waited. But the woman didn't move. She looked up. "Well?"

"Hon, I'm not doing this with you."

"Why not?"

"You are so drugged, it isn't funny."

"Ugh. I hoped you wouldn't notice."

The woman was laughing at her. Lena glared.

"Anyway," Lena continued. "It's your public duty to sleep with me."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're a cop, all heroic and all that. Rescuing fair maidens from the clutches of, of, their exes. And I have _needs_."

"You are impaired and cannot consent to anything."

"There is a flaw in your logic."

"And what is that?"

"I am impaired. And my _impairment_ was designed to make me incredibly, incredibly horny. So if you don't sleep with me, you will be actively harming my well being. Which is unheroic."

"You are going to be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, Miss Luthor. But you're a cute drunk."

Lena curled her lip. "Don't call me that. Call me Lena, and I will call you . . ." Lena furrowed her brow. "I don't know your name."

"Maggie. Maggie Sawyer. Not that you'll remember it."

"I am excellent with names. And if you call me Luthor again, I will call you Margaret."

"Now there's a threat."

"More kissing now."

"We've been over this."

Lena rolled her eyes. "And I explained why you're wrong. What are you? Straight?"

"Noooo," The cop grinned, smile wide, face dimpled. "Definitely not that."

"Good. I'm not usually wrong."

"How about we put this discussion on hold for a bit. I'm going to get you some PJs and you can wash up and get into bed.'

Lena gave her a suspicious look. It sounded like she was trying to get out of giving her the orgasms she required. But, on the other hand, bed was on the table, and bed was a good sign. "Very well."

"Great." Maggie released her, and Lena immediately stepped in and caught her chin, leaning in, as if to kiss her, but stopping millimeters before their lips made contact. She could feel Maggie's surprised breath.

"Don't forget what I want," she murmured.

"Don't worry. I'm not likely to forget a proposition like this any time soon." Maggie reached up and rubbed her shoulders. "You've had a rough day though. I'm going to get you some water, and cozy pjs and a toothbrush, and you ask for anything else you need."

Lena opened her mouth, and Maggie covered it. "Except sex."

"I was going to say thank you."

Maggie laughed and gave her arm one last squeeze before disappearing into another room. Lena slumped back against the wall and breathed out. A rough day was putting it mildly.

#

Lena resisted the pants, but out of her dress and make up with her hair loosely braided down her back, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, she didn't look anything like the powerful, controlled young woman she'd seen on TV. Honestly--Maggie checked her phone. No texts from Serena, thank god--she looked like the girl you imagined your partner cheating with.

"You sure no pants?"

"No pants," Lena said, taking the glass of water between two wobbly hands.

Maggie guided her to the bed.

"I like the way your sheets smell."

"Thanks." Maggie shook her head. "Sorry to say, I did not change them. But they've only been there for like two days."

Lena crawled under the covers and stared up at the ceiling. "I like the swirl effect."

Maggie let out a weak chuckle. "How are you feeling? Is it wearing off at all."

"Not really. Last time I was a little busy; I didn't have time to notice the nausea until afterwards." She shifted, stretching against the sheets. "Are you sure you won't-- It would make this easier."

"I don't want to take advantage," Maggie said softly, but if you just want touch--"

Lena's eyes, pupils still blown, fixed on her, and she reached out, laying her hand on the pillow, open, inviting.

This was probably the shittiest idea she'd had so far. She slid into the bed and looped her arms around Lena, drawing her in, holding on tight. Lena's chest went tight, and then she breathed out, leaning against Maggie's shoulder.

"I don't know what was in that," Lena mumbled. "But any kind of touch is good with it. Probably helpful when you don't know what aliens are going to be into."

"Probably."

Lena smelled warm and human, with faint traces of expensive perfume still lingering on her skin, but having a hard time fighting through the sweat and arousal. Lena chuckled weakly, mostly silent, but Maggie could feel it in her arms. "I probably would like this regardless. Do you know who the last person who hugged me was?"

Maggie let her eyes shut and leaned into the girl. Who was the last person who had hugged her? Serena didn't hug or cuddle really, no more than perfunctory three pat hugs. Maggie liked that about her. Hugs were . . . intimate in a way that meant she had to connect with people. Cass . . . Cass had squeezed her shoulder, and nodded, and touched her hand, but didn't touch more than that.

Steph had. Steph was a hugger. Probably _someone_ hd given her a hug in between, but the last hug she could remember was that night, she'd been about to go on a date, and Steph had wished her luck, and held her hard for a moment, taking the chance to whisper in her ear. "Go for it. You're worth it. Total prize."

She'd been taken that night. They hadn't found her for days.

"Who?" Maggie forced out, ignoring the way the words choked.

"Lex."

"Fuck."

"I know." Lena shifted enough to press her face into Maggie's arm. "They always told me, mom and dad, that I couldn't remember my real parents. That those faint and gentle impressions of sun bleached walkways, heat, ocean so turquoise it looked like a swimming pool, were false images, dreams. I told them about those memories, so they could laugh, and say it was deja-vu. But sometimes I dream of arms around me, hair like mine falling in my face. I remember having a family."

"Yeah, me too." Maggie kept her hands moving, in appropriate places, stroking up and down her arms, across her back.

Lena lifted her chin and stared at Maggie's face. "You're like me, aren't you?"

"In what way?"

"You've looked into the mirror and said, 'I'm a lesbian.'"

"Yeah, I've done that." The train of thought in Lena's head was kind of hilarious.

"I've looked into my father's eyes and said it."

"Did that too."

“He didn’t even blink. He didn't care one way or another. My mother, though. She slapped me so hard I fell into the glass coffee table.” Lena touched her eye where a scar marked the pale skin. “I bled everywhere.”

“ _Lena.”_

“They wouldn’t have done that.”

“Who?”

“My real parents.”

“Lena—” It was a nice thought, and Maggie regretted the protest as soon as she made it. If she needed to believe that, there was no good reason to tell her not to.

“I don’t know. I can’t know. I only know they’re not here for me and I don’t know why. But I— The only thing I remember is how it felt to be loved.”

Maggie stroked her fingers across Lena’s cheekbone. “I remember that too. I remember my dad holding me close and teaching me to shoot his gun. I remember my mom scolding me for not washing up for dinner, kissing my face and reading me bedtime stories. And I remember coming home from school for Thanksgiving, and ready to ask, hey, I’m an adult, I finally have a serious girlfriend. Can she come by? I’d like you to meet her. I thought they’d figured it out. I’d had girlfriends in high school, close friends who I’d gotten caught tangled up with. I’d gone to prom with my best friend. They’d never said anything. I’d never said anything. I thought— I thought if no one said anything then it had to be fine.” Maggie shook her head. “I thought at most they’d be disappointed that I hadn’t grown out of it. I hadn’t thought—”

Lena looked up, her lashes seeming so heavy they dragged her eyelids down. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Oh.” Her voice was soft, breathy.

“Found my bag on the porch. They’d ‘had a discussion’. I went back to school. They never picked up the phone. The money stopped. I got a job, quit after two years, went to Gotham, to the academy. I think my sister made them reach out again, or something. They said it was fine, they'd needed to adjust. And I pretended it was okay. I pretended I understood. I pretended that their choices hadn't changed my life utterly and irrevocably. It isn't the same. It will never be the same."

Lena leaned in, her mouth, wet and tasting of minttoothpaste, rubbed loosely against Maggie’s. Maggie’s hand went to her face, cupping her cheeks, kissing back.

“You’re drugged, honey.” Maggie tangled her fingers in Lena’s hair. “I can’t do this while you’re drugged.”

“It’s my mom,” Lena said, her voice at half volume. “I think Cadmus is run by my mom.”

#

Lena woke up at dawn, her head clear, the smaller woman still wrapped around her, holding on. There was pain in her face that she didn't remember while she was awake, and her grip was tight.

What was this? She hadn't been supposed to be rescued. People like this weren't supposed to care about people like her.

It was nice to pretend they'd still care when Lena was just Lena and not either a villain to be won over or a damsel in need of rescuing.

#


	9. Act 3: Scene 1 INT Maggie's Apartment Kitchen

Maggie's texts to Alex were a sad litany of 'How are you?' 'What's going on?' 'Haven't seen you lately?' 'Are you okay?' 'Do you need help?' 'Tell me what's happened' 'I know you're probably freaking out about this, but please tell me if I can do anything' and more. But this was the first time she had a text that she thought Alex might respond to.

_Lead on Cadmus._

Technically, her lead was still asleep, and it had been hard to extract herself from the warm bed and the heat of the body she'd been curled around, but it couldn't hurt to give Alex a heads up. The sun was coming through the windows and the smell of coffee was filling the apartment. And then there was a thump from outside and the sound of a key in the lock.

Serena stepped through, holding a garment bag.

Maggie froze. "What are you doing here?"

"I picked up your dry cleaning. I think the word is 'thank you.'"

"Yeah, sorry. Thanks." Maggie carefully did not look at her bedroom door. Shit, this was no good at all.

Serena stared at her, frowning. "You're twitchy."

"Weird night."

"Yeah, I heard about the 'not a fire' at Martok's. It sounded like you. You're always charging in, balls first. Anyways, I needed to talk to you. This is usually your night off, so my sister said we could--"

_Oh Fuck._

Lena, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair, stumbled out of the bedroom. "Is there coffee?" she croaked. "Coffee, and maybe a purgative."

Serena's gaze took her in, long limbs, beautiful body, clear hangover. Her gaze turned to Maggie.

Maggie put both her hands up. "Dude, she just crashed here, she was drunk off her ass."

"In your bed."

"Yeah."

"No pants."

Maggie grimaced. "It was hot."

Serena very carefully hung the dry cleaning from a hook on the wall. "I've put up with a lot from you, Maggie. I've put up with you being insensitive and cruel when it comes to my family. I've put up with how your work comes first to the point that your life comes second. But this? It's not even that you're lying to my face and don't feel a thing. You probably have a good explanation. You were probably trying to help people. But you always help everyone but me. Maybe it is selfish, and maybe my needs are petty compared to your crusade for justice, but I've had enough, okay? I've had enough of you ignoring me, not even considering how I feel right now." Serena shook her head and turned around. "I don't want to see you anymore."

She dropped her key on the counter and left.

The kick landed heavy in her chest. Maggie bent over the counter and tried to breathe. Things hadn't been going well, but everything was wrong right now, everything was crazy. She'd been going to fix things, just as soon as she got over herself. Serena couldn't just--

"Coffee." Lena had staggered over to the percolator and poured two mugs, putting one on the counter in front of Maggie and inhaling the other, wincing as it scalded her tongue. "Also, I apologize. I came stumbling in here like a boor."

Maggie forced herself to take a breath and a sip of the coffee. She shut her eyes. "It doesn't matter. I think we have an anti-alien organization to talk about."

Lena rubbed her eyes and stared at Maggie over the rim of her cup. "You can do better."

Maggie shook her head, keeping her mouth sealed tight. This wasn't the drugged girl who told her everything the night before. This was a stranger. "I already texted Agent Danvers. So I need to know what you know."

"Right." Lena rubbed her temples. "Veronica mentioned Rigon. It took me a while to put it together, but it was an old west coast subsidiary of Luthor Corp. Two possibilities strike me, my mother is using properties that were once owned by Rigon and were 'lost' in transfer to Luthor Corp, or, well, or she's setting a trap."

Maggie swallowed down her distress. "What do you need to find out?"

#

When Agent Danvers showed up, Lena had been installed at a laptop and was SSHing into the old Luthor Corp servers, trying to track any trace of Rigon. Alex looked wrecked, and Maggie instantly moved to her reaching up and pushing her stray hair behind her ears. Lena, distracted from the program running, watched the gentleness of the touch. She'd probably done Detective Sawyer a favor by sparking a crisis with her girlfriend. It burned a little.

Alex sighed and turned away from Maggie, looking to Lena. "I thought you said you didn't know anything more."

"I didn't," Lena said. "But I asked around. I would have been in contact sooner, except a certain friend of all of ours drugged me and made me mostly useless all last night."

"What is it?"

"My mother is not a joiner. And the things she said-- I suspect she is in fact the head of Cadmus. I've found that the old Rigon laboratories below National City University have been active recently. She's using property she embezzled from Luthor Corp. If she has Supergirl, that might be where they're keeping her."

Alex's eyes lit up. "What are we doing waiting around? I'm calling a team and when they're assembled we'll go."

#


	10. Scene 2: EXT A Forgotten Bunker Under National City University

Maggie knew it had all gone wrong the moment Lillian Luthor strode out of the dark room.

"How kind of you to bring all your friends here, Lena."

Lena, hastily dressed in a bulletproof vest with a camelhair trenchcoat over the top, froze. Then the bullets started blazing. Maggie felt one catch her vest and another sink into her arm. Wind knocked out of her, she dove for cover, gasping futilely, holding the wound on her arm, hot blood oozing out between her fingers. She heard Alex yell as two of Lillian's goons grabbed her and dragged her back against the wall.

Lena was untouched.

"You bitch!" Alex snapped.

Maggie felt for her second gun, the first having been knocked out of her hands as she fell.

"I was worried when Roulette called. She sounded irritable, as if she'd thought you'd actually get back together."

"That wasn't what she'd thought, mother," Lena said, her tone cold. How could she be that cold, that composed? What did she know? Had she be in on this? "She'd thought she was going to have blackmail material on me forever. Luckily one of my _friends_ preserved the Luthor reputation from that fate."

"You were always more trouble than you were worth."

"Then why did you take me!" Lena's voice cracked as she screamed it, and Maggie peeked up above the barrel she'd hidden behind. "Why did you want me at all?"

"You know why. You had anomalous genetic scans. Lionel hoped they'd become metahuman powers. You've always been a disappointment, Lena."

"You have never done anything but make me that."

"Oh no. I give you chance after chance, Lena. And this time, this chance is your last one. Join me. Put Luthor Corp at my disposal."

"L-Corp."

Lillian huffed an annoyed breath. "We can show the world that Lex was right to fear Superman. The aliens are here for their own sakes, and they will take everything they can from us. The more human-like they are, the more they will take. We cannot let impossibly powerful species into our world and not expect to become their slaves."

"Maybe so," Lena said. "But there are good humans. We are weaker than kryptonians, but defeating them by developing weapons will only give us more weapons to use on each other. Why not try to give the good aliens a reason to fight for us instead?"

"You child."

Lena shook her head. "No. No. Perhaps yesterday, I would have agreed with you. But not today. There _are_ good people."

The wound in Maggie's arm throbbed and she choked down a gasp.

"Then you are nothing but a liability." Lillian's hand thrust out, and Maggie let off two shots--a cry, a camelhair coat falling into darkness. And then a blur of red, blue and gold.

Supergirl shot through the room, tossing goons aside, heat vision burning through their guns. Alex took advantage of the distraction to elbow the one who held her in the head, and throw the other into Supergirl's cannonball like path. Lena dove for cover, and Maggie let herself pass out.

#


	11. Finale

Scene 3: INT the DEO Medlabs

"What are you doing here?" Kara murmured in her sun-bed. Lena reached out and brushed her fingers along one loose curl.

"Your sister has cleared me."

"I'm glad."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Then Kara blinks a few times. "My sister. You know, then?"

"It wasn't a surprise. Of course the best person I know is also a superhero."

Kara offers a shy little grin, and Lena wants to kiss it. She doesn't. Too quick, too impromptu. She takes Kara's hand instead and squeezes it. Kara squeezes lightly back.

#

Alex finished stitching up Maggie's wound and tied off the thread.

"Now, I know you're like me and won't wear your sling, but wear your goddamn sling, okay? It will heal faster."

Maggie chuckled even though the bruising on her ribs from the shot that had hit her vest made it hurt to laugh.

Alex fell silent and just looked at her. "Why'd Lena say that? About finding out that there are good people, just recently?"

Maggie shook her head and awkwardly tried to gather her hair back into a ponytail with one hand. "I dunno. She's complicated."

"Thank you," Alex's voice was soft. "For doing everything you did for me, for Kara." She leaned in and planted a kiss in the middle of Maggie's forehead.

"Couldn't let you lose your sister, Danvers," Maggie said softly, her voice rough. Heroes died. That was what they did. But not letting Supergirl die, if that was all she could do, it was worth it.

"I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot of movie nights, and, um, maybe you could come to some?" Alex's brow furrowed into stern-doctor mode. "And I can make sure you're resting your arm."

"Sounds great."

Alex gave her that tired half smile, the 'you amuse me' smile, and Maggie took it gladly. "I'm still a little weirded out about finding Lena Luthor in your house with no pants on."

Maggie chuckled. "Long story."

"I didn't really think you had anything in common."

"Well, she's family."

"What?" Alex stared at her. "Family?"

Maggie made a face. "'Family,'" she made air quotes. "You know."

"I don't."

How was Alex so oblivious? She'd already said too much to back out now. "'Family' means gay. She's a lesbian, like me."

"What?" Alex squeaked.

"You couldn't tell?"

"No!"

Maggie slipped off the cot and found a loaner DEO t-shirt to pull over her head. "Oh, Danvers. You are really the cutest."

Alex actually turned pink at that.

#

In the open, well lit atrium, Maggie chased down the camelhair coat. "Hey, Lena."

Lena turned and bit her lip. "Detective Sawyer."

Maggie raised an eyebrow and waited.

Lena let a slow smile open up her face. "Margaret."

"If I wasn't in a sling, I'd punch you." Maggie shook her head. "It's probably a weird ask, but let me give you my digits. We should . . . hang out, sometime." Maggie proffered her phone. "Preferably when you're not high off your ass."

Lena laughed and took it. "I'd like that. I don't have a lot of friends."

"Same. And, well, I'm also single now. Tons of free time."

"I do apologize again."

"Not your fault."

Lena gave her back her phone but didn't let go, their hands stayed connected through the machine. "You were very chivalrous, Detective Sawyer. I owe you for that."

Maggie shook her head. "It was the right thing. And if I see that ex of yours again, I'm going to punch her in the goddamn face."

Lena's smile was bright and warm. "The same goes for yours."

Maggie shook her head, embarrassed, and gestured Lena towards her. She wrapped her up in her arms and Lena made a small sound, then looped her arms around her neck and held on tight. "You're not alone," Maggie whispered, and Lena's grip tightened further.

"You are such a good person."

#

"I'm so glad you're okay," Alex says, and Kara turns to meet her gaze. For just a fraction of a second her expression stays cold and still, and then she ducks her head and reaches out for Alex.

"I'm glad you are too. I love you so much."

"I--" Alex strokes her hair, feeling oddly tense and conflicted. "I love you too."

#

INT: The Secret Lairs of Cadmus

_"I need you to be Supergirl.” Lillian looked deeply into Kara’s eyes. “I need you to be Supergirl, until I need you to not be Supergirl anymore.”_

“ _And Lena?” Kara murmured._

“ _She is isolated; she is alone. Get close to her and keep her that way. Make love to my fool of a xenosexual daughter. And then destroy her.”_

_The tiny red glow inside her bellybutton flickered in the light. And Kara, standing tall and cool, icy eyes and hair swept up, a tight black dress, smiled. Was it Kara at all? Or was it Red Kryptonite?_

_#_

 

_Next Time on Supergirl_

As Lena and Kara's relationship deepens, Lena begins to notice strange behaviors that she can't make sense of. But a series of missed connections makes Lena doubt her new friendship with Maggie. Will her mother's vile plots leave her alienated and alone?

Kara makes her first move, to take out Alex, and splinter the DEO. And then she makes bigger plans. Can Maggie figure out what's wrong with Lena and help Alex who can no longer trust her colleagues?

But the shit really hits the fan when Kara decides it's time to rule the city.

Step One: take over CatCo. But she does not reckon with Cat Grant coming back to see what has gone wrong.

Expect a Major Blowout!

 


End file.
